Chapter 13 #2
She smiled faintly. ‘Brief. Intense. Stupid. But he was charming, and I was bored. Didn’t end well. Not because of me, but because he made enemies, some of them closer to home than people realise.’
‘I see.’ Hayden didn’t want to say much, he just wanted to listen, nice and close.
She set her mug down and stared at it. ‘He told me things one night. Said he owed someone money, and more than he could keep up with. Not because he didn’t want to repay it, but because the deeper he got, the faster it snowballed.
Every time he thought he was making ground he slipped further behind.
They wanted him to pay, sure, but they also knew how to keep him tangled.
Said it was more useful having him just desperate enough to owe, always just behind. ’
Hayden’s jaw ticked as he looked out over the paddocks, then back at her. ‘That sounds exactly how low types would like it to be, you know, keeping you just hopeful enough to keep digging, just desperate enough to stay quiet.’ He shook his head slowly. ‘Did he name names?’
‘Not directly. But he said something once about a “generational bastard”. I gathered it was likely someone older than him, and smart enough to run things from the shadows, but then dumb enough to think the town would never notice.’
Hayden grunted, frowning into his mug. ‘That’s not exactly a narrow field. Half the town’s built on old blood and old grudges.’
‘Trust me, as a barmaid, I know,’ Sharon agreed.
‘But Jack was scared. Properly scared. Not just of the debt, but of what they’d do if he messed up again.
’ She sighed. ‘I told all this to the cops, too, when Jack died. I know they put his death down to it being a dark road, dark night, inattention, maybe a bit of grog, yadda, yadda, big load of BS if you ask me, but hey …’ She shrugged.
‘Why would they listen to some barmaid that was sleeping around with the deceased?’
‘Bugger me, you think it wasn’t an accident?’ Hayden looked at her, his eyes wide and steady. ‘They should’ve bloody well listened. Doesn’t matter who you were to him, what matters is you knew him better than most. That should’ve counted for something.’
Sharon gave a dry laugh. ‘It didn’t. They took my statement, wrote it down like it was a shopping list, and never called back.’
‘Typical,’ Hayden muttered. ‘They were looking for clean answers, not messy truths.’
‘Or,’ she said, lowering her voice and glancing towards the paddocks as if someone might be listening, ‘maybe someone on the inside didn’t want it looked into. A bent copper, maybe. I wouldn’t be shocked if one of them knew it wasn’t an accident but kept it quiet.’
Hayden’s brow furrowed. ‘You really think there’s someone at the local cop station that’s involved in all of this?’
Sharon shrugged, but it was the kind of shrug that held weight. ‘Someone who owes money, maybe. Or someone who benefits from keeping their mouth shut.’ She paused, shook her head slowly. ‘I’ve seen stranger things in towns like this.’
Hayden leant back slowly, his mind turning over the possibilities. The net was wider than he’d thought, and maybe far more tangled. ‘Did he ever say where the money went? Why he was borrowing so much?’
Sharon shook her head. ‘He kept that part close. I asked once, and he just said it was too late to unravel. That every choice he made was the wrong one by then.’
They sat in silence for a moment, the wind lifting and settling like it, too, was listening.
‘Who do you reckon might know more?’ Hayden asked eventually. ‘Someone Jack talked to before you, maybe? Or after?’
‘Could’ve been Trev. They worked together a bit on the pub’s plumbing, used to have smoko out back, just the two of them. And Joe, the delivery driver, he came in more often than his route required back then. Always asking after Jack. I think they all went to school together, but I might be wrong.’
Hayden nodded slowly.
‘You think Molly’s still in danger?’ Sharon asked, finally.
‘I know she is. And because Brianna lives in Jack’s old cottage, I think it’s a safe bet to say she is too.’ Hayden internally grimaced at the word bet, the one he’d stupidly made with Gavin briefly rearing its ugly head.
Damn it.
Sharon’s voice softened. ‘Then you’d better start talking to the right people, Hayden. Because if Jack’s debts didn’t die with him, someone’s keeping score. And they’re very clearly not done yet.’
He nodded once, jaw set, thoughts spinning. Sharon took another sip of tea as she looked out at the land like it might offer answers.
As did he. But none came.
Just then, the roar of an engine split the stillness, followed by the crunch of tyres biting into gravel.
A vehicle tore up the driveway, throwing a thick cloud of dust into the air that blurred the view.
Hayden was already on his feet, moving along the verandah for a clearer line of sight.
But the haze made it near impossible to make out more than the vague shape charging towards the house – too fast to be casual, too close to ignore.
It cornered the bend and parked out back.
‘You expecting anyone else?’ Sharon asked, standing now too, tension returning to her shoulders.
‘No,’ Hayden said, voice low.
A moment later, a figure appeared, broad-shouldered, uniformed and familiar.
Sergeant Craig Dunlop.
‘Morning, Hayden,’ he called casually. But there was something too rehearsed about the smile, too flat in the eyes.
‘Didn’t know you were in the area,’ Hayden replied evenly.